


Scars

by Mice



Series: Sea Change [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, World of Warcraft: Legion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26070940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/pseuds/Mice
Summary: Mathias hasn't been himself since the Bold Arva's return from their last mission. Angry, snappish, and unsettled, he's not been sleeping well. Flynn wants to know why, and if there's anything he can do to help.
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Series: Sea Change [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875685
Comments: 28
Kudos: 99





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> my huge thanks for beta and idea bouncing to jaguarmirror and hippocrates460 who have the patience to sit and listen to me rant at them as i'm writing.

Flynn strolled into the Harbormaster's office, whistling a sprightly tune. Cyrus Crestfall looked up from behind his desk and waved him in. "Fairwind. Good to see your skinny ass. Got that letter here from the Lord Admiral I told you about. Said to give it to you when next you made landfall."

"What does she want with me? You were a bit light on the details when you wrote."

Cyrus shrugged. "How would I know? I don't read your mail, Fairwind. All I know is that she said she's got some kind of proposal for you and told me to deliver this myself." He pulled an envelope from a drawer in his desk and waved it at Flynn.

Flynn went to the desk and dropped off the _Bold Arva_ 's berthing papers, then took the proffered envelope. "Is the _Middenwake_ still afloat?"

"She'd not taken on any more water when I checked her yesterday. A drydock should come open for her soon if you've got the gold. I'll let you know as soon as I hear."

Flynn nodded. "Thanks, mate. Gold I've got, but I'm not sure it'll be enough for the repairs. I'll shove off and see what the Lord Admiral's got to say." He took himself over to the Snug Harbor and ordered a rum, then found a seat at a little table in the back corner. He slugged back a good swallow to fortify himself for whatever trouble Proudmoore was about to hand him. With a sigh, he rolled his neck and shoulders to loosen the muscles and slid a dagger under the Lord Admiral's wax seal. It wasn't the Admiralty's, but the personal seal of Jaina Proudmoore herself. 

The letter was brief and to the point, requesting Flynn's presence at Proudmoore Keep, with instructions to show the letter to the guards at the gate on the first afternoon of his arrival in Boralus, at four o'clock.

He looked up at the wall clock in the Snug Harbor. It was half past three already, but if he grabbed a gryphon to cross the water, he'd make it in time. With a sigh, he knocked back the rest of the rum, not wanting to waste good alcohol. Or even mediocre alcohol. Tucking the letter into the inner pocket of his greatcoat, he paid the barkeep and went to rent a ride.

Promptly at four, he stood outside the closed door of the Lord Admiral's study, a little uneasy. The last time he'd been in Proudmoore Keep, he'd been desperate -- exhausted, starving, and completely undone -- wanting to save Mathias from the Zandalari. Today, he was rested, clean, and relatively calm, if you didn't count the unease that always came with facing down a King or a Lord Admiral for unknown reasons.

The door opened and the Lord Admiral's secretary showed him in, then made himself scarce. "Captain Fairwind," Proudmoore said.

"Lord Admiral. Reporting as you requested." 

"Please, have a seat." She gestured to a chair that had been placed before her desk, close enough for an actual conversation that didn't seem to involve a lecture. "I heard you'd likely be in port sometime in the next couple of days. And a bit about your recent encounter with the Explorer's League."

Flynn tilted his head, curious. "Everyone survived, though it was a near thing. The crossing from Stormwind to Boralus was smooth. Glad to be back. I was surprised that you'd want to see me." Maybe she'd get to the point now.

"In light of your work with Master Shaw on several occasions, I have a proposal to put to you."

Flynn put on his most charming smile. "I'm flattered, but I should probably inform you that I'm seeing someone."

Proudmoore rolled her eyes. "Half of Azeroth is aware." She leaned back in her chair and regarded him over joined hands. "If we could focus, Captain."

"Sorry. Please, go on." He leaned forward, elbows on her desk, and rested his chin on one hand. She eyed him, but let it pass.

"I understand that you're currently in possession of two ships."

Flynn nodded. "I am, though one's waiting for me to get a little more gold together for repairs. The _Middenwake_ took a fair bit of damage on my final azerite run during the war and we were limping to get home. I only had enough money to deal with the damages to the _Bold Arva_ after we ran aground in Nazmir because the Alliance financed most of it. Cyrus said he'd let me know when a drydock opens, but I'm not sure how long it'll be before I can afford everything that needs done."

"Yes. On that note. The Admiralty occasionally has need of the services of a Captain like you, Fairwind. Experienced and willing to play a little fast and loose with the rules, but extraordinarily well-connected both here and in Stormwind. You're not the kind of man who'd do well with a Captaincy under the authority of the Admiralty itself, but as a free trader, you could be invaluable."

Flynn regarded her for a moment. "I already am a free trader. What kind of services were you thinking of paying me for?" He was uneasy with the idea of being beholden to anyone. She was right that an Admiralty rank was out of the question. He'd have flat out refused. On the other hand, taking a commission now and then could be very, very lucrative.

"There are certain missions that can be, shall we say, problematic to arrange with a ship flying the Admiralty's colors, or those of the Alliance, but a free trader has somewhat more discretion." Flynn nodded, listening. It was true. He'd flown merchantman's colors for the League's commission.

"And?"

"I would like to propose that you, with your two ships and a potential eye on acquiring a third at some point in the future, create a small trading company. This would allow you to repair the _Middenwake_ and crew her, with the aid of certain investors."

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "You mean you."

Proudmoore didn't confirm, but continued. "Control over the company would be yours, as would the selection of the captains and crews of your ships, but in return for this monetary support, you would accept occasional sensitive commissions from the Admiralty and, possibly, from the Alliance. Your status would grant you a certain amount of limited immunity if you were to run into difficulties during the course of fulfilling these commissions."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, thinking. This was serious. This was SI:7 territory. "You want me to be an intelligence operative."

"Kul Tiras doesn't have a formal organization dealing with these things, but we do sometimes have need of operations independent of SI:7. I'm not saying you'd be going behind Shaw's back. You might even request his aid from time to time if necessary. But there are things that are the business of Kul Tiras that the Alliance as a whole would place on a lower priority, and it would be wise to have someone I could depend on to do those jobs."

Flynn nodded, seeing the logic of it. "I can understand the need for it, but me? Seems like the only 'advantage' I'd bring to you is that I'm sleeping in Shaw's bed when I'm in Stormwind." He felt more than a little resentful about that. He didn't want to be used as a path to Mathias by anyone.

"I won't deny that I regard that as an advantage." She sighed and looked him in the eyes. "You play the fool, but I know it's an act. You're sharp, Fairwind. You're a skilled captain. When you're not at the bottom of a bottle, you're reliable, and you've already done a great deal of invaluable service to Kul Tiras and to the Alliance. You have connections that an Admiralty officer could only dream of -- not just Shaw, but in ports around Azeroth. You know people and you know how to charm the ones you don't. I never imagined I'd see Shaw enamored of anyone, yet here you are. Don't think for an instant that you weren't looked into when you started sleeping with the Alliance's Spymaster."

Mathias had mentioned it once, in passing, but Flynn had never given it a thought after that. He wondered what would have become of him if he'd not passed muster. Likely an unmarked grave somewhere, he realized, if they'd thought him an actual danger to the man or his position.

"Most importantly, you're a good man. Determined. Flexible. Resilient. Resourceful. You came up out of the gutter, an orphan who taught himself to read and write. You left piracy behind because you're ultimately too decent to stomach it. I'm just suggesting formalizing a relationship that already exists, and putting some gold behind it. Giving it an official body. Granting you and your ships a certain amount of protection."

He sat, silent, for several minutes and Proudmoore waited patiently. At least she wasn't denying that Flynn's relationship was a factor in this. He found himself a bit surprised at her high opinion of him and his skills, but when he turned it over in his mind, he figured it was a fair assessment. The bottle comment stung, though. He didn't like to think he had a problem with it. A lot of times he played it up, not nearly as drunk as he made out. People could be easy to fool with it if they already thought you were that way inclined, and their lips loosened considerably if they thought you were three sheets to the wind.

The time between Mathias being taken by the Zandalari and his return to Stormwind? Yeah, Flynn had spent most of that time up to his gills in the drink, but that was grief and despair, not his normal life.

"A trading company."

Proudmoore smiled. "The Fairwind Trading Company, perhaps?"

"Has a nice ring to it, I'll admit."

***

Flynn discussed the proposal with his crew the next morning. The debate took about four hours but, in the end, all of them signed on as charter members of the Fairwind Trading Company and as the permanent crew of the _Bold Arva_. He took his answer to the Lord Admiral late that afternoon, and the charter was drawn up. By that night, enough gold had been paid into his accounts to completely repair and refurbish the _Middenwake_ , and Cyrus had been informed of Flynn's intention to drydock her immediately when a slot came open, whether he was in the city or not. "I'll see to it if you're not in Boralus when it happens," Cyrus said, much to Flynn's delight.

With some suggestions from Proudmoore, Flynn started the search for a captain and crew for the _Middenwake_ , though he likely had several months to complete the process before the old girl would be launched again. Her new captain would be the Fairwind Trading Company's first priority. With the Company chartered, Flynn decided to home port the _Middenwake_ in Boralus and the _Arva_ in Stormwind, which would no doubt please Mathias, and give the Lord Admiral some flexibility regarding potential commissions.

Permanent berthing would need to be arranged for the _Arva_ in Stormwind but Proudmoore assured him that she'd see to it. Flynn was inclined to believe her. He wrote to Mathias the next day and let him know that he'd be about a week later on the turnaround than he'd originally expected because something had come up, but explanations would be forthcoming upon his arrival with the _Arva_ instead of through the portal. He was fairly certain Mathias would get wind of it beforehand, but it paid to keep everything above board with his lover.

When they finally made landfall in Stormwind late in the morning, Flynn could see Mathias waiting on the docks for him, his copper-red hair ablaze in the sun. Flynn's heart nearly burst with affection at the sight of the man after two weeks away. When the gangplank was down, Flynn hurried to meet him. He was in Mathias's arms before he could speak, both of them holding on tight.

"Missed you," Flynn said. Mathias nodded into his shoulder and squeezed before he eased his hold.

"I missed you, too. I've heard a bit about the subject of your letter from other sources, but I'm looking forward to the details." Up close, Mathias looked like he'd not been sleeping well. There were dark arcs under his eyes and a general air of tiredness about him. Flynn knew he'd been restless at night since the Explorer's League contract, but he'd hoped it would pass.

"I have to visit the harbormaster's office to confirm the _Bold Arva_ 's permanent berthing and file the usual papers, but that shouldn't take too long. Will you come with me? We can get a little early lunch after that if you like."

Mathias smiled, but it was a bit subdued. "I think I can find the time."

"You all right?" he asked, as they walked.

Mathias nodded. "I'm fine, just a little tired. Turns out I sleep better with you here."

Lunch was at the Gilded Rose, because Flynn was more interested in food than talk, and the food was a bit nicer there than the Pig and Whistle. Sadly, Mathias had to return to SI:7 to deal with some ongoing investigations, so they didn't have time to discuss anything serious, but Flynn was content to sit there eating and gazing at the man in a frankly ridiculous stupor of affection, their ankles intertwined under the table. Mathias seemed unfazed by this and just relaxed in his presence, talking a little bit about unclassified things that had happened in Flynn's absence.

"I've got business with the _Arva_ and the crew to finish up this afternoon anyway," Flynn told him, as they parted. "Since we'll be home ported here now, a few of the crew are looking for places to live in town. I'll see you when you're done this evening."

"That sounds good. Good luck with the housing. If you need any assistance, I can have someone help you sort it out."

"Should be okay without," Flynn said. "The Lord Admiral seems to think I'm resourceful."

Mathias smiled at him and kissed him before heading back toward Old Town. Flynn returned to the docks.

***

"A trading company," Mathias said. They were curled together in bed, Mathias's head resting on Flynn's chest. Flynn trailed his hand slowly up and down his lover's back.

"It wasn't something I ever imagined for myself," Flynn admitted. "I was worried she was going to offer me an Admiralty title."

Mathias shook his head. "No. She knows you're not suited for it. What did she end up offering you?"

"A massive amount of gold. Enough to get the _Middenwake_ operational again. I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to afford it with another ship to keep seaworthy. A permanent Stormwind berth for the _Arva_ , which is more difficult and expensive to get than you might think. I keep my independence: I don't answer to the Admiralty or the noble houses, just to the Lord Admiral, and only for specific commissions. Limited immunity under some circumstances. Other considerations to be named if or when they become necessary."

That produced a nod, Mathias's hair tickling Flynn's chest. "Independent operators are always useful." His fingers trailed over the scar on Flynn's abdomen. Flynn covered Mathias's hand with his own.

"I'm okay," he murmured.

Mathias's hand stilled. "I know."

"Are you?"

"Yes," Mathias said, a little too insistent. "I just haven't been sleeping well, that's all."

Flynn wrapped his arms around Mathias. "I'll be here for a while. We don't have a contract for another voyage yet, and I'll be dealing with the _Middenwake_ for at least a month. If you've not been sleeping well alone, maybe you'll be able to catch up on it while I'm here. Rest a little easier."

"I'm sure I will." Mathias sighed and relaxed into Flynn's embrace.

Flynn tilted Mathias's chin up and kissed him. "Try to sleep, then, love."

"I'm glad you're home." Mathias settled against Flynn's chest and closed his eyes.

***

Mathias's sleep was restless that night, though he didn't wake. It was obvious he was having nightmares. Flynn sighed and rubbed his back until he quieted and settled again, but it was worrisome. When he asked the next morning, Mathias said he was fine and that he didn't remember dreaming at all, but he was a bit snappish, even after his morning coffee.

For the rest of the week, Flynn kept an eye on him. One night, Flynn woke to the prickling sensation of all Mathias's body hair standing on end before he half-woke with a startled sound. He fell back to sleep almost immediately, but Flynn held him through the rest of the night. The next morning, Mathias again claimed that he was fine, and that he didn't remember waking. Another night, Mathias had similar incidents five different times, and Flynn ached for not being able to do a Tides-damned thing that seemed to help.

It didn't happen every night, but by the end of the week Flynn was convinced that something was seriously wrong. The last straw was Mathias repeatedly muttering _no, no_ in his sleep as he clung to Flynn, sweating and twitching. The sound of it was pleading, heart wrenching.

"I know something's wrong, love. Why won't you tell me?" Flynn asked, over their morning coffee.

Mathias sighed, his shoulders drooping a bit. He shook his head. "Just… stress, I suppose. Looking for Sylvanas is taking a lot of my focus. Maybe that's bleeding into my sleep at night."

Flynn shook his head. "It wasn't like this before we went looking for those Titan orbs."

"Leave it, Flynn," Mathias snapped, his eyes narrowed. "It's nothing." He got up abruptly and left, slamming the door behind him.

"Tidemother," Flynn murmured, stunned. He stared at the door from his chair at their table, his breakfast half-eaten. By the Tides, what was wrong with the man? Something awful must have happened to him that he'd buried, but their voyage had unearthed.

If Mathias wasn't going to talk to him, he'd have to find someone else who would. He knew Mathias had a regular daily report to the King at two in the afternoon unless something else came up that was a higher priority, so he had some time to kill, but Flynn thought Renzik was the most likely potential source for him.

He made his way down to the _Arva_ , where Sonya greeted him with a pile of correspondence she'd picked up at the Harbormaster's office. 

"Mornin' Flynn." She dropped the pile of letters on the table in his cabin. "Everything's ship shape. Nothing to report."

"Always a relief."

"You're looking a bit rough around the edges." She tilted her head and lifted an ear at him.

Flynn sorted through the stack and set the things that didn't need immediate attention aside. He looked up at her. "Mathias isn't sleeping. I don't know why and he won't tell me."

His First Mate grunted assent. "Happens when you're sharing a bunk. Better to sleep alone."

"Maybe. Doesn't help me right now though. I'll figure something out."

"Y'always do."

Flynn huffed a humorless laugh. "Resourceful, me."

"He's a good man," Sonya said. "We all saw how he was when you were hurt. I doubt he's not talking because he doesn't want to. Might just be too hard. Men are like that."

Flynn regarded her, silent, for a moment. "You have a point."

She chuckled and left him to his work.

The first thing on Flynn's stack was a thick packet from Cyrus that turned out to be notice that the _Middenwake_ had been drydocked, with a long list of necessary repairs and estimates. Flynn sighed and rubbed his eyes with both palms. She'd taken worse damage than he'd thought in that last azerite run, and the costs were going to be staggering. Not as much as buying a new ship, but it was still going to take a huge chunk of the gold that the Lord Admiral had given him to set her right.

Well, that was his morning done for.

When he finally set aside his quill and notes, it was well into the lunch hour. He went up to the Pig and Whistle to grab something fast before he attempted to get in to see Renzik. Everyone there knew who he was now, and he wasn't usually questioned going into the SI:7 complex, but Renzik was often busy, and this was a sensitive mission. He'd need some time, and some actual privacy, to address the situation with him.

"Is Renzik around?" Flynn spoke to one of the security people at the door of the headquarters building.

The security goon tilted her head. "Main floor, Fairwind. He's busy. Keep it short."

"Don't let him hear you say that." Flynn flashed her a smile, and she chuckled. He sauntered in. 

Renzik was talking to several agents. Flynn waited near the door until they were done before approaching.

"He's up at the Keep, Fairwind." Renzik made a vague gesture in that direction. "And he's doing his daily with the King. You can't see him until he's done anyway. Come back in an hour."

"I'm here to see you, Shiv." He eyed the other agents in the room, none of whom were paying them any obvious attention. "In private."

Renzik glowered at him suspiciously. His ears lowered and his eyes narrowed. "This better be worth my time or I will show you the end of my boot." Flynn just looked at him, arms crossed over his chest, and waited. "Yeah, c'mon. My office, pal."

They ascended the stairs and entered the office. Renzik closed the door behind them. "What is it?"

"It's Mathias." Renzik's head tilted and he waited for more. "Something's wrong. He's having nightmares and he's been angry and irritable lately."

Renzik snorted. "Been actin' like a gnoll recently, snapping people's heads off. What's that got to do with me?"

Flynn leaned down a little, knowing he towered over the goblin. "What in the abyss happened to him that might be giving him those nightmares?"

Renzik blinked at him, then laughed. "Which 'what,' Fairwind? We're talking about a guy who was killing people for his granny by the time he was ten. There's a world of 'what' that'd give nightmares to anybody even marginally sane. Can ya narrow it down a bit?"

"I don't know. Something happened while we were on that island east of Northrend. At first I thought he was upset because of what happened to me, but I'm fine now and he shouldn't still be like this. All I have is a nasty scar." He leaned down and put a hand on Renzik's shoulder, insistent. " _What happened to him?_ "

The next thing Flynn knew there was a knife at his bollocks and a fist in his collar, and Renzik was glaring up at him, nose to nose. "Do. _Not_. Lay hands on me, Fairwind. I don't care who you're fucking. You do not fuck with the goblin. Do it again and I will de-nut you. Back off." Renzik gave him a shove with the hand in his collar.

Flynn's hands snapped away and he stepped back, his heart thundering at his miscalculation. He'd not intended aggression, just emphasis. "Sorry! Sorry. I'm just worried about him. I can't do anything to help him if I don't know what's going on."

Renzik stared at him for a moment, then nodded and sheathed his shiv with a quiet _snick_. "Surprisingly, that does actually narrow it down to a particular 'what'. And I can't tell you 'what' because it ain't my story to tell." He shook his head. "All I'm gonna say is that the Broken Isles campaign was rough on him, and you didn't hear it from me. Now scram." He flicked the back of his hand at Flynn, wiggling his fingers. "You can buy me a drink later to thank me."

"What was he doing during that time?" The Legion invasions had been a mess. Kul Tiras had been less affected than most of the rest of Azeroth, but it had still been a bad time for everyone.

"Done now. Leave." Renzik pointed at the door.

Flynn got the message. "Right. Let me know when you want that drink." He showed himself out.

***

Mathias apologized when he got home that evening. "I didn't mean to snap at you this morning." He reached out to Flynn, hesitant. Flynn enveloped him in a hug and held him as he continued, his chin resting on Mathias's head. The warmth of their bodies twined together was soothing, and he squeezed gently. "The lack of sleep has been getting to me. I'd hoped it would improve when you got home. I didn't intend to take it out on you."

Flynn sighed. "I wish you could talk to me about whatever's bothering you, love. I just want to help."

Mathias didn't answer, but held on, silent, for a long time.

The next morning, Flynn went to the _Bold Arva_ 's log. There was a fair bit that he was a little fuzzy on, given he'd been unconscious for a couple of days, and he hoped maybe something there would offer a little clarity. What had happened on the island that would have shaken Mathias so badly? It couldn't have been the murlocs, the naga hadn't been that much of a threat, and the Titan facility was fast and simple. Nothing there that Flynn could imagine would unsettle a Spymaster and master assassin.

He flipped through the pages until he came to the entries in his First Mate's scratchy hand and settled down to read.

_The murloc came back to the ship at three bells of the first dog watch without the Captain or Shaw. Said that a crew of vampire pirates he called the Red Blade had come along while they were fighting some naga, and one of them had dropped the Captain with a shot._

_Shaw sent him away to save the Titan orbs they'd found but Sir Finley couldn't just leave them both to die, so he recruited a nearby murloc village to go to the rescue. Can't imagine what that must have been like! Actually, I can and I don't want to think about it, because murlocs are nasty little fuckers. Except Finley. He's a bit of all right. Funny little bloke._

_He said the Captain was still alive when he left, but it was a near thing, and he might not make it 'til morning. The little guy was beside himself and I don't blame him. He and Thurin will set out as soon as there's enough light to see by on those monster crabs he rode in on._

_We all wanted more information about these Red Blade bastards. They've hurt one of ours and we all agree that they need to be turned into chum and their ship burnt to ash, especially if they've killed Fairwind. I'd like my own ship someday, but I don't want to get her like that. Flynn's a good captain and it would be a sore loss if he died. I don't even want to think what that would do to Shaw, who's obviously besotted with the idiot._

_Finley said that these pirates are also vampires, so we'll need to be careful and make sure they're deader than a stone or they'll just get back up and keep attacking. Said he'd first encountered them in Stormheim when we were at war with the Legion and if they're here, they're a long way from their home ports. Stormheim. By Elune, what a place. Terrible memories. I just wish Greymane had killed that Banshee bitch while we were there._

Flynn leaned back in his chair, staring at the entry. 

Stormheim. The Broken Isles. 

The Red Blade.

The answer was there, somewhere, but what was it? What was the connection here and why was Mathias so disturbed by the whole thing? They'd put paid to the crew who'd tried to kill him, and Flynn was sure that Mathias had people out right this very minute hunting down the rest of them on one excuse or another. If it was just the Red Blade, wouldn't that have been enough for the man to rest easy?

Renzik wouldn't tell him what Mathias had been doing during the invasion, which meant something important must have been going on that wasn't general knowledge. Or maybe something was in the public records that had to do with Mathias. The man preferred the shadows, absolutely, but he was enough of a public figure that people knew who he was. He was seen with the King and the other Alliance leaders regularly.

Flynn wondered if there were an archive of some sort that kept copies of the printed circulars that sometimes went up. Any major events would have been posted; recruitment drives, rationing notices, copies of speeches by the King or other officials. Tidemother only knew what he might find. There wasn't enough time left in the afternoon to visit the Royal Library, but there would be time tomorrow.

***

Mathias was already home when he got there, still working, a pile of documents on the table in front of him. He looked up when Flynn entered. The man looked like the bad end of a long week, and Flynn went over and put his arms around him, nuzzling his hair. Mathias sighed and reached up with one hand, slipping it around the back of Flynn's neck and tugged him in for a kiss.

"Are you really going to work at home tonight?" Flynn asked. "It's okay not to dig yourself an early grave in the documents, you know."

Mathias's shoulders slumped. He looked down at the pile of papers for a moment, then dropped his quill to one side of the stack. "You're right." Mathias looked back up at Flynn, his eyes hollow with exhaustion. "Maybe you can help me take my mind off of it."

That had to be the least sexy come-on Flynn had ever got from the man, but it didn't matter. He slid his arms under Mathias's and tugged him up into a hug. "Anything you need, love." Mathias's arms wrapped around Flynn's waist and he rested his head on Flynn's shoulder. 

They kissed, slow and warm, and Flynn held Mathias to him, the entire length of their bodies pressed together. He loved the way their bodies fit together, Mathias a little shorter and wiry as a whippet, as though they'd been stamped out to mesh and meld into one. His arms drifted, one hand in Mathias's short, coppery hair, the other gliding down to curve around one gorgeous arc of his ass. Mathias moaned, soft and breathless as he tugged at the ribbon that held Flynn's long, auburn hair. It dropped around his shoulders and down his back, and Mathias ran both hands through it, tugging a little. Flynn's cock gave an interested twitch at the sensation and their kiss roughened, tongues caressing.

"What do you want, love?" Flynn murmured, his lips moving against Mathias's.

Mathias whispered, "You," and tugged at Flynn's hair again. He nipped at Flynn's lips, moustache tickling, his beard brushing against Flynn's. "Want to be buried in you, not paperwork. Feel you all around me, your weight on my body." Mathias shifted, tugging Flynn in the direction of their bedroom.

"Mmmm, sounds fun." He let Mathias lead him by the hand, his other caressing the man's ass. Over the course of their relationship, he'd got better at dealing with the complex fastenings of Mathias's armor, and they undressed each other slowly, taking their time and running hands and mouths over bared skin.

Flynn was hard and wanting as Mathias lay on their bed, holding one hand out to him to draw him closer. Flynn took it and knelt beside him, clasping his lover's cock and bollocks in one hand, stroking carefully. Mathias sighed and relaxed, looking up at him with a soft smile on his tired face. Encouraged, Flynn leaned down and took the man's length into his mouth, his head bobbing gently as he drew pleasured moans from Mathias's lips, one fist tight in Flynn's hair. By the Tides, he felt good in Flynn's mouth, that fist felt good in his hair, the warmth and the scent of him, the taste of his skin on Flynn's tongue. He moaned and Mathias shivered with it. 

Mathias tugged him up by his hair and kissed him, hard and deep, his arms tucked under Flynn's, both hands clinging to Flynn's shoulders. They rocked together like waves lapping the shore, and Flynn sank into the rough friction of the hair on Mathias's chest and belly against his own, the not-quite-slippery-enough tug of their cocks rubbing together between them. "Ohhh," Mathias sighed. His head lolled on the pillow. "I want to be inside you."

Flynn was entirely in favor of this development. He leaned over to get the bottle of slick from under the bed, then sat up, his weight on Mathias's thighs as he slathered it on his lover's cock and bollocks. He smeared it on his own, as well, tugging a few times until Mathias took the bottle from him, corked it, and set it aside. Mathias took Flynn's hips in his hands and tugged him forward. They fucked regularly enough that neither of them really needed a stretch first; enough slick and a slow push were sufficient. Flynn held Mathias steady and sank down on him, both of them breathing into the stretch and the press of the penetration.

"Oh, that's good," Flynn murmured. Mathias squeezed Flynn's hips and rolled his own, both of them feeling the slick friction as Mathias pushed in deeper.

"Love you," Mathias panted, "need you."

Flynn let his weight drive Mathias in the rest of the way and rocked over him, his mouth open, head falling back at the pleasure of it. He felt Mathias take his cock in hand and start stroking slowly.

They moved together like that, slow and gentle and undulating like the tide for a long, sweet time, as Flynn rested his palms on Mathias's chest. He caressed Mathias's skin with his thumbs, in little arcs over his nipples, and Mathias shivered and gasped. Mathias moved so that his feet were flat on the bed, his thighs pressed to Flynn's back, and began thrusting into him harder. The angle slid his cock against that sweet spot inside and Flynn shuddered, gasping out an orgasm into Mathias's stroking fist.

Flynn resisted the temptation to just melt into a puddle on Mathias's chest and urged him to thrust harder and deeper. "Oh, Tides, take what you need, love." Mathias slipped his hand back to Flynn's hip and held him where he wanted him, fucking up into him until his entire body shuddered and he came with a harsh groan, grinding into Flynn's body. Mathias went limp beneath him, his legs trembling. Flynn moved carefully, letting Mathias slip out of him, and lay atop him, holding him close, both of them sweating and panting. He kissed Mathias gently.

"That's… thank you," Mathias said, eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath.

"I love you," Flynn said. Mathias opened his emerald green eyes and looked up at him. The man still had dark circles beneath them, but he looked a little more at peace. Flynn hoped it would be enough to let him sleep that night.

***

As far as Flynn could tell, Mathias had slept through the night undisturbed, but he was upset and fragile the next morning, and the two of them argued over nothing that Flynn quite understood. He could see that Mathias was hurting, so he sighed and let it go. It was heartbreaking, seeing him like this.

He loved the man and wanted this to work, but he couldn't force him to talk. Most of Flynn's relationships had been short-lived things. He wasn't sure he was even any good at them, really, but the impression he'd got from Mathias was that he'd never actually had a lover before, just a series of fucks that might or might not have been strictly for the purpose of getting information. Like it or not, between the two of them, Flynn was what passed for the expert on having a partner. He only hoped that he'd be good enough at it to keep them together until Mathias caught up. He was clever enough, and a fast learner; Flynn had some hope for their outcome. 

Down on the _Arva_ , he found Johnny with sailcloth spread out on the deck, making a new jib; the one they were using was starting to get worn and they'd need to replace it soon enough. Relly was splicing ropes, and Grixx was giggling at something she was reading in a news tabloid.

"Fairwind!" She laughed, collapsing back against Relly's shoulder, waving the paper in one hand.

"What?"

"You are _never_ gonna believe what I just read!"

He gave her a puzzled look. Relly looked up, snickering. "The odds on it being deeply embarrassing are sufficiently high that I wish to preserve this memory for posterity." Johnny just snorted a laugh and didn't look up from the sail he was stitching.

Grixx looked down at the paper and began to give a dramatic reading performance. "Spymaster Mathias Shaw, the mysterious, shadowy advisor to King Anduin Wrynn, has lately and very frequently been spotted about town in the company of the dashing but entirely inappropriate Captain Flynn Fairwind. Shaw is rarely seen in public, but he's known to be icy and has never been noted in anyone's company before. What has the hot Kul Tiran done to melt that cold heart? And is it true what they say about Kul Tiran men? Dear reader, this columnist wants to know!"

Relly and Grixx were howling with laughter and Grixx held the paper out to him. "Look! They even got a S.E.L.F.I.E. of you two!" She waved it in one ochre hand. Flynn grabbed it, but she didn't let go, so he just held it steady and looked. There was a picture of the two of them, walking in Old Town near the Pig and Whistle. Flynn had one hand on the small of Mathias's back, his other extended in the middle of a gesture, his eyes on the street in front of them. Flynn remembered that evening. He'd been telling Mathias about one of his island expeditions, wanting to cheer him up, and about the unfortunate champion who'd had to be hauled back to the _Middenwake_ and de-petrified before they could sail home. The look on Mathias's face, though, stopped Flynn's heart in his chest. It was the soft expression of a man so clearly in love that it was painful.

Johnny puckered his lips and made kissy noises at him and all three laughed again. 

"What in the abyss is this?" Flynn asked, stunned and a bit appalled. His hand went slack and Grixx pulled the paper away from him. "Inappropriate? I'm 'entirely inappropriate'?"

"It's _Stormwind This Week_ , the most obnoxious gossip rag in town. Filled to the brim with who has their nose up what noble's ass and all the weird things that happen here. It's great!"

"Give me that!" Flynn made a grab for it but Grixx snatched it away.

"Get one of your own! They're like two coppers at any vendor!"

"Oh, Tidemother's tits. Mathias is going to melt down if he sees this." Flynn sighed as his crew giggled. "You're all fired!"

"Can't fire us, Captain," Johnny said. "We're charter members of your company, remember?"

"Oh, bugger," Flynn grumbled. "In that case, get your scrawny butts back to work!"

They all did, still giggling, as Flynn made his way to his cabin to deal with the day's correspondence. He'd have to pick up a copy of the gossip rag. That photo of Mathias was… well. Worth the embarrassment of the article. 

He dealt with the ship's business for a few hours, then went for lunch at one of the food carts at the docks, and to buy a copy of _Stormwind This Week_. Strictly for the picture of Mathias, of course. He cut the snippet out and tossed the rest of it, rolling the picture carefully and putting it in his map case, where it wouldn't be damaged.

Once he finished lunch, Flynn headed up toward the Keep, hoping to get into the Royal Library. By the Tides, there were so many bloody stairs in Stormwind. The place _would_ have to be built on a cliffside that took forever to climb. He stopped for a few minutes on the massive coastal rise to catch his breath and take in the view before he went into the city proper.

When Flynn arrived, he collared the first person he saw and asked if he could speak to a historian. "You should speak to Kayla Mills, sir," the draenei said, pointing to a human woman disappearing into the stacks. He seemed like a particularly shiny draenei, but they all looked odd to Flynn. And tall. Very, very tall. Not to mention horny. He might try the pun on Mathias, but really, the man had probably heard it all at least a thousand too many times. Come to think of it, the draenei probably had, too.

He followed the historian around the corner where she'd vanished, then saw her in the middle of the aisle, filing something in a folder. "You're the historian?"

She slotted the folder into its place on the shelf. "I'm the head historian, Miss Mills, yes. How may I help you?" She gave him a rather suspicious up and down. Flynn didn't suppose he could blame her. He wasn't dressed like the usual sort that frequented places like this.

"I'm looking for information about the Legion invasions," he said.

She tilted her head. "There's rather a lot of it, can you narrow your interests down for me? Particular events? Individual acts of heroism? Effects on trade routes?

"One person, actually. Spymaster Shaw. I'm trying to find out what he was doing during that time."

Mills raised an eyebrow. "There won't be a lot, and a request regarding his role is going to have to be logged," she said.

Flynn nodded. "Not looking for anything classified. Just public records, if they exist." He knew they might not.

She sighed. "Come with me, I'll log your request, and then we'll have a look at the reference engine." She led him to her desk and opened a log book. "Sign here," she said, "and write your name legibly on this line."

Flynn took the proffered quill and splashed his signature on the line, then wrote his name. She glanced at it, looked up at him, then looked back at his name. "You're Captain Fairwind?" Flynn nodded. "And you can't ask him yourself?"

Flynn shrugged. "He's been a bit, er, tetchy lately. I don't want to bother him with it." He quirked a half-smile at her. "I'm sure you have some idea how busy he gets. Tends to forget things like eating. You must know the type."

She sighed and apparently decided his request was harmless enough, because she put down the log and led him to a little mechanism in the back of the room that had the distinct look of the gnomish about it. It had rows of keys with letters on them, and she poked at them for a few minutes. The mechanism whirled and booped, then spat out a strip of paper. She handed it to him. "These are references to the aisle number, the shelf, the file name and number, and the reference number of the document in the file itself." She pointed to the labels on each of the long rows of books and files. "They're all from public reference, in this room. You can take your files to table number four, over there," she pointed again, "and leave them on the cart next to my desk when you're done."

"Very, um, orderly," Flynn said.

"It has to be. No one would be able to find anything at all, otherwise."

"Thanks, Miss Mills." He looked at the slip of paper. Three references. He wandered the aisles until he found each of the three labeled folders and took them to table four, then opened them and laid them out.

The first file included a folded up announcement poster, the sort that got pasted on city walls with decrees and such. _By order of Master Mathias Shaw, the City of Stormwind is placed under lockdown due to the grave danger posed by the Night Watch of Darkshire, who are known to be collaborators with the Legion's forces. All citizens are ordered to remain indoors until further notice. The Stormwind City Guard shall patrol and lockdown will be strictly enforced._ The poster continued with a few more details, but was fairly straightforward. So Mathias was in Stormwind, at least publicly, during the invasions.

The second file held wanted posters issued under Mathias's authority with pictures of a half-orc assassin named Garona Halforcen, and a few others of different races, all said to be members of the Uncrowned. Flynn had heard of Halforcen and wouldn't want to run afoul of her. He'd heard of the Uncrowned, as well, but only in whispers, back when he'd been a pirate captain. Sweete had wanted their crew to find a way to join them, looking for more profit, and probably more unsavory jobs, but Flynn had steered clear. He'd heard rumors that Fleet Admiral Tethys of the Bloodsail out of Booty Bay was one of theirs. It seemed to Flynn that, dangerous cutthroats though they were, the Uncrowned were more the sort that SI:7 would want to keep an eye on as potential recruits, really. Odd.

The final item was a death notice for a Lieutenant Amber Kearnen, sharpshooter, who had served in Pandaria and during the Siege of Orgrimmar, and who had died in Dalaran. No details about her death were included. Mathias was quoted as saying she was "one of Stormwind's finest snipers, who will be sorely missed."

If Mathias knew her well enough that he'd been quoted in her death notice, she had to have been one of his people. Dalaran had been moved to the Broken Isles to try to head off the Legion. But how did any of this add up? Right now, it was just random pieces of information. Flynn had a great deal to think about.

He tucked the documents back into their folders and dropped them on the cart before he headed back down to the docks.

*** 

At the docks, Flynn saw that a vrykul trader was in port. Wondering if they'd ever encountered the Red Blade, or if they'd have more information about the group than he already had, he set out to find the vrykul crew. It was inevitable that a crowd of them would be drinking at one of the inns.

Flynn's wandering search ended in the Dwarven District. Tides, he was going to end up half mountain goat, living in this city. Frankly, the location didn't surprise him. Dwarves and vrykul shared a rather enthusiastic love of ale and a similar boisterous drinking style. He got a table near the vrykul sailors and listened to their tales and boasting for a while, nursing one drink as he laughed with the crowd at their exploits.

Finally, the vrykul well in their cups, Flynn bought a round for their table. "My thanks for your tales!" he told them.

"Ha! If you buy us more ale, we'll tell you some new ones!"

"I"ve never been to Stormheim," Flynn said, "but I've heard stories about the daring of your sailors, and about the pirates that roam those waters."

That triggered another hour of sea stories, and the mention of several pirate crews including the Red Blade. "Vampire pirates," the vrykul first mate said, his voice dark with menace.

"I ran afoul of some of them a while back myself," Flynn said.

The vrykul laughed. "You? You don't look strong enough to fight them and live!"

"Well," Flynn said, "I can show you the proof!" He tugged at his shirt, pulling it up and displaying the scar from the bullet wound he'd got. "We faced them on an island in a race for treasure. Outnumbered, we were, with naga and murlocs all around, waiting to pick off the survivors.

"My ship pounded them with her guns, and there I was, with a sack of gold in one hand and a cutlass in the other, fighting off two of them, when one of the bastards shot me!"

"Cowards!" the vrykul howled. "Shooting a man when he's hand to hand with you!"

"It was a dire and desperate time, I reckon, but I kept my feet and kept on fighting. My crew and I fought a valiant battle and, in the end, we killed the lot of them and burnt their ship to the waterline. We brought home two chests of gold!"

There was a roar of admiration from the vrykul crew. "Odyn's bones, now that's a tale!" Flynn bought another round for the table, while splashing most of his own around. Very little of it made it to his mouth. He'd smell like a brewery, but sometimes it was worth it.

"You talk as though they're a fearsome lot," he said, "but my crew and I drove them off and took their treasure. What could they have done that's so impressive? I mean, besides the whole vampire thing. I have to admit, that sounds pretty dramatic."

The vrykul captain leaned in, breathing in Flynn's face. He was fairly certain if he'd lit a match, the whole tavern would have gone up. "They say that the Red Blade were hired once to go to the flying city -- Hovarst, what's it called?"

"Dallyron, I think," Hovarst said.

"Aye, Dallyron. Someone hired them to go there and make a kill once."

Flynn's brow wrinkled. Oh, that was interesting. "And did they?"

"Ah, there was some boasting that they'd done it, but no one is sure. If they did, they were scurvy cowards about it, not facing their victim in battle, like you did." The vrykul slapped Flynn's shoulder, nearly knocking him out of his seat. "Don't know how they'd have got to the city, given it's filled with Outsiders and all their flappy mounts. If you're going to fly, you should use a proper drake! One that breathes fire!"

The crew laughed again, waving their drinks in the air. "Barkeep, another for us and our little friend here!" the captain shouted.

The Red Blade, hired to kill someone in Dalaran. Amber Kearnen, dead in some unspecified manner, in Dalaran. Mathias, an utter wreck after encountering the Red Blade and seeing Flynn nearly die by their hand.

It added up, but there had to be more. He finished the drink they bought him, then wobbled off with a wave, playing rather more unstable than he actually was. At this point, he had one more port of call. Flynn hoped he'd be forthcoming. But first, go home, change clothes, and wash the ale off him. He didn't want to stink like a brewery when he spoke with the King.

Once he'd cleaned up a bit, he made his way up to the Keep again. It was late afternoon by now, the sun lowering over the city. Mathias would be home in an hour or so, and Flynn hoped to be finished before then, but there was no telling. He really should buy a horse, or maybe even a gryphon, because all these stairs were miserable.

When he arrived at the Keep, he was escorted in to talk to Anduin's secretary, who raised a very long, green eyebrow. "Master Shaw's not here right now, Captain Fairwind."

Flynn nodded. "I know. I need to talk to the King."

The tall night elf looked down his nose at Flynn. "His Majesty is really quite busy at the moment, Captain--"

"It's important. It's about Master Shaw," Flynn insisted.

The secretary shifted uneasily. He'd probably taken the brunt of Mathias's irritability recently. He hesitated a moment then nodded. "It may be half an hour or so. If you'd like to wait in the garden in front of the library?"

"Right." He followed the secretary out to the garden and planted himself on one of the stone benches, looking out at the mountains in the distance. The secretary hurried off.

Flynn sighed and hunched over, elbows on his knees as he stared out at the sky, thinking. How did you help someone who refused to even acknowledge that something was wrong? What would Anduin have to say, and how bad was it likely to be? What if it was something Flynn couldn't do anything about at all? It wasn't like he had any sort of magic or healing powers. Whatever had happened to the man had left wounds, and they were deep.

The sparse clouds in the sky slowly turned the colors of sunset and a quiet breeze rustled through the garden, broken only by birdsong, and a few soft voices in the distance, coming from the direction of the Royal Library. Eventually, the secretary returned. "His Majesty will see you now." Flynn rose and followed him to Anduin's private study, where he was admitted and the door was closed behind him.

The King stood near one of his comfortable chairs, one hand resting on the back of it. "What did you need to discuss with me, Captain Fairwind?" There was no hint of impatience or irritation, thank the Tides.

"You must have seen that Mathias has been out of sorts since we came back with the Titan orbs," Flynn started. Anduin nodded."He's been angry and irritable. I mean, yes, he can be quite the grump if he's not had his coffee in the morning, but this is more than that. He's not sleeping. Have you seen those purple shadows under his eyes? Some mornings, I swear, he looks like somebody's taken a hammer to them. He's having nightmares that he won't, or can't, talk about. There have been night terrors. The other night there were five of them within just a few hours, and he… he won't talk to me."

Flynn took a breath, as Anduin stood and listened. "It's all been since that mission. At first I thought he was just upset about what happened to me -- I mean, I know that's farfetched, and one incident like that wouldn't set him off for this long -- but he's not dealing with it any better."

Anduin nodded. "Yes. I've been concerned about him."

"Well, I went and did some digging."

Anduin raised one blond eyebrow.

"The only thing that could have triggered this is the Red Blade crew. But why?" Flynn paced uneasily back and forth as he spoke. "The Red Blade are based out of Stormheim. They don't usually travel too far from that area, which means that the reason has something to do with the Legion invasions."

Anduin was looking actively interested now, and a little surprised. Flynn kept on. "Something must have happened to him then. Something terrible. I looked at the archives today. He was, at least publicly, in Stormwind during that time, but not necessarily the whole of it. He ordered the city locked down at one point." Flynn turned to Anduin. "He posted bounties on members of the Uncrowned and, to be perfectly honest -- not exactly my area, I might add -- these people seemed more the sort that he'd want to recruit than people he'd want in prison. But there's more."

"More," Anduin said softly, watching Flynn with eyes sharp as a gryphon's.

Flynn nodded, pacing again. "There was a death notice that quoted him, for someone named Amber Kearnen. Why would he be quoted? Wouldn't that be considered some sort of public, if covert, acknowledgment that she was SI:7? Why would he do that? It doesn't seem like him at all. But the truly suspicious thing is that there were rumors that the Red Blade killed her in Dalaran."

Anduin seemed surprised but Flynn didn't think the rumor itself was any news to the King. "So, Mathias lost someone to the Red Blade in Dalaran. They almost killed me. But that doesn't strike me as enough to set him off like this." Flynn locked eyes with the King. " _What happened to him in the Broken Isles?_ He must have been there and something happened. Something awful that he'd managed to bury, and the Red Blade dredged it all up and now it's haunting him. It's turned him into this shadow of himself, and if he's angry and snappish and not sleeping, it's affecting more than just the two of us. It's affecting his work. It's affecting his advice to you." Flynn pointed at Anduin, then his hand dropped.

"I know that you know what it is, so _please_ , for the love of the Tidemother, tell me so I can try to help him. I want to understand. I… I want to give him some shelter from the pain. _Please_."

Anduin looked down at the rich blue and gold carpet and sighed. "You're right," he said. "You've pieced together a great deal of it. I'm impressed. I'm sure that Master Shaw will be, as well, once he understands why you started looking into it."

The young King leaned against his desk with one hip, arms crossed over his chest. "Before my father led the Alliance forces to the Broken Shore, he ordered an SI:7 information gathering expedition to the Broken Isles. This mission was led by Master Shaw. They discovered that the invasion site on the Broken Shore was intended as a trap, to destroy the leadership of both the Alliance and the Horde and cripple our ability to defend Azeroth." He shifted and Flynn listened, anxious. "The SI:7 team was ambushed before they could deliver this information."

"By the Tides," Flynn whispered, heart thundering.

"Unbeknownst to us, Master Shaw was taken prisoner and the others killed. Lieutenant Kearnen was the only member of the team who escaped. She attempted to bring the information to us, but had to spend a fair amount of time evading the Legion before she finally made it to Dalaran, where she was murdered."

"What about Mathias?" Flynn's heart was hammering, his chest tight as if it had been bound with iron chains.

"Shaw was held prisoner by the Legion for several months and tortured, while a demon called Detheroc, disguised as Shaw, returned to Stormwind and took his place. Detheroc, wearing Shaw's face, contracted the Red Blade to kill Lieutenant Kearnen."

Flynn stumbled to one of the chairs and collapsed into it. "Mathias," he murmured. "Oh, Tidemother, Mathias." Silent tears sprang from Flynn's eyes; he wiped them away, his gut churning.

"The Uncrowned eventually discovered where he was being held prisoner and effected a rescue. He and two members of the Uncrowned returned to Stormwind, with the entirety of the royal guard hunting them, unmasked the demon, and killed it. It was… quite some time before Shaw was steady again."

"No wonder he couldn't tell me."

"He doesn't think you'd understand. I don't think he knows how to even begin talking about the enormity of the entire incident."

"They tortured him. For months. Yet he has so few scars."

Anduin shook his head. "True, but the scars something like that can leave in your mind -- on your soul -- he has those in abundance. We saw to it that he was treated by some of the best Priests on Azeroth, though I shouldn't say more than that. I'd spoken to him about it, and I hoped he would open up to you, but it seems that the responsibility for breaching the topic is going to fall to you."

"I don't know how he's going to react to me finding out about this." Flynn buried his face in both hands. "How does anyone get through something like that?"

"Shaw is… one of the strongest men I've ever met. I don't know how he's not just a gibbering shell, after all he's been through. But right now, he's fracturing, and you've been holding him together. You've given him something I thought he would never have: happiness, peace. I believe that now you're aware of what happened, the two of you will be able to find a path through this."

It seemed overwhelming, but Flynn loved the man and wanted him whole again, or as whole as anyone could be after that sort of horror, after a life like Mathias's. "I'll do what I can, Your Majesty, but I'm just a sea captain. I'm not particularly good at much of anything else."

"You are deeply underestimating yourself, Captain. I'm confident you can help him piece himself back together again, given time."

The idea that the King himself believed that Flynn would be able to help Mathias was, by turns, both frightening and reassuring. "Thank you," he said. "That's… I appreciate everything you've told me."

Anduin nodded. "I would spend more time with you if I could, Captain, but I have other responsibilities this evening." He gestured to the door. "Have faith in yourself and in what the two of you have together. He needs you." The King showed Flynn to the door, and they parted, leaving Flynn deep in thought.

He walked toward Old Town slowly in the evening darkness, his shadow long under the city's street lamps. Mathias would already be home, he knew. They'd parted that morning frustrated with one another, but Flynn hoped that things would be a little better by the time he got back.

Mathias was sitting at the table when Flynn opened the door. He had changed out his armor for the linen shirt and trousers he usually wore at home when he wasn't expecting to be called out again. When he put aside his armor, he wasn't Spymaster Shaw. He looked smaller, more human, vulnerable. When he looked up at Flynn with sorrow and pain in his eyes, dressed like that, he was just Mathias. Just a man, like any other, who had lived with more trauma than most. Flynn's heart cracked.

"I'm sorry," Mathias said. "I seem to do nothing but apologize to you lately. I've been an ass, and I don't mean to be."

Flynn sighed. He went to the table and sat, taking Mathias's hand in his. "I… I did a little digging, Mathias. I know now why you've been so stressed and upset lately."

Mathias's brow wrinkled. "What do you mean?" he asked, worried.

"I found enough pieces to put some things together. And then I went and asked the one person I knew who wouldn't lie to me about it. He didn't tell me everything. Nobody would be able to do that but you. But he told me that you'd been taken in the Broken Isles. Held for a long time. Tortured. And why the Red Blade set you off."

"Anduin," Mathias whispered, shaken.

Flynn nodded. "He's worried about you, too, love."

Mathias pulled his hand gently out of Flynn's and buried his face in his palms, shoulders slumped, his breath coming harsh and unsteady. Flynn scooted his chair closer and put an arm around him. "I love you," Flynn murmured. "And I'm here for you. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have gone through, but I'm not leaving. I want to help if I can. It must be awful even to think about talking about it, but I promise that I'll listen, and maybe… maybe that will help to clean it out, like a wound that's gone bad and has to be drained. It's painful, but it's better afterwards." Mathias didn't respond. "I'm not a healer, love, but I'll do anything I can to help you find your way back." He slid his other hand down Mathias's body, his fingers tracing gently over the long, pale mark that he'd got on the island. "Someday, maybe, those memories can be just another scar."

Mathias took a shuddering breath and lifted his face. His eyes were dry; he hadn't been weeping, but he looked shattered. Flynn took him in his arms. "It was the most horrifying experience of my life," Mathias said. "And I've never been able to do more than talk around the edges of it. Even SI:7 doesn't know everything."

"And that's okay. You only have to talk with me about what you can."

"I'll try," Mathias whispered. "For you, I'll try."


End file.
